I have never been so happy to see a porta-potty in all my life.

It's really no surprise that on the very day I vowed to stop peeing in public places, nature would put me in my place.

What was I thinking, provoking the universe like that? Moron.

This afternoon I packed up the car and headed to school to get the kids. I was making my merry way down the highway, my head full of plans for the afternoon and my cupholder full of an iced double espresso breve......a few hours at the beach, dinner at Wokstar, an hour of roller skating, and a drive home through the cool evening air, with enough caffeine in the mix to keep things moving along nicely.

Ahhhh. Lovely.

Just as I was contemplating what I should order for dinner - a salad? Perhaps the soup? I felt something.

Something strange.
Something entirely unwelcome.
(gurgle)
Huh. Well, I'm sure it's nothing, just a little twinge and I'l-
(rumble)
Hm. Well, maybe not. Let's wait and see.

So I continued to ponder my dinner choices, and continued on my merry way to school. I popped out, collected children and water bottles, chatted, signed some forms, got everyone in the car, and drove away.
(Rumble rumble RAWR)

Oh Shit. (pun acknowledged and very much intended) What was I thinking, ordering a double espresso. "Keep things moving along", my ass. (again, the pun. Punny.)

I broke into a cold sweat. I started cursing the driver in front of me. I was simultaneously holding my breath and clenching my ass and clutching the steering wheel as though the tighter I held on, the better off I would be.

As my stomach churned I knew, I just knew I was going to be terribly, awfully ill. I just had no idea what form this would take. And I wasn't going to find out on the side of the road. Can you imagine my kids waving cheerfully as all of the families exited school while I was next to the car vomiting and shitting myself?

Yeah. Me neither. Good lord it took me 3 years to live down walking out of the bathroom with a piece of toilet paper stuck to my shoe in 4th grade. I can't even begin to imagine how awful it would be for my kids the next morning.

So no. Not an option. I had to get to a bathroom. A very private bathroom, where I wouldn't have parents and children gathering outside within earshot of my clearly impending doom.

Something awful was going to happen. I had to think of the children.

It was nothing less than sheer willpower that bought me the 4 minutes and 17 seconds it took to drive to the closest park and sprint like a fucking crazy person from the car to a portapotty. I flew. I ran straight through bushes, hopped through spaces between shrubs, leaped over rocks like a gazelle. If the portapotty had been occupied, I cannot bear to think of the photo op I would have provided the unsuspecting tourists who just minutes earlier were shoved to the side in my desperate race against nature.

I believe in the sports world it's called a bear attack. (Thanks Garret) (and you probably don't want to click on that link). I have experienced something this profoundly unsettling only once before in my life, and I had fervently hoped that would be the first and last time. Foolish, really.

Now I am in bed with electrolytes and mashed potatoes, my laptop keeping my aching tummy warm.
But I would just like to state, for the record, that I did indeed make it to the porta potty.
I take great personal pride in keeping my convictions. If only for a day.